


Aftermath

by Tia



Category: Chicago Fire
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-14
Updated: 2021-03-21
Packaged: 2021-03-23 00:42:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,919
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30047313
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tia/pseuds/Tia
Summary: Casey seeks Sylvie out in the aftermath and finally gets a chance to respond.Set directly after 9x08. My take on how the inevitable conversation (part 1) could go...
Relationships: Sylvie Brett/Matthew Casey
Comments: 15
Kudos: 126





	1. Chapter 1

Casey slowly returned to his office, still a bit blindsided by Sylvie’s unexpected outburst. He picked up his pen, intending to finish the last of the end of shift reports before he headed out, but he couldn’t focus. They needed to be done though, so he determinedly pushed the puzzle that was Sylvie Brett out of his mind and dug deep to get the damn things done. Part of the job, after all.

Three minutes later he tossed the pen down with a sigh, rubbing his hands tiredly over his face.

Had he really been that out of line with Grainger?

Yes, and no, if he was being brutally honest with himself. The reprimand was still warranted, because he knew damn well that if Chief Boden had been on scene then the Lt. wouldn’t have tried to assert authority and take charge like he did. Especially as a fill in officer coming from another house. Grainger was the odd man out among the three units who had years of history working together, not to mention a reputation for being one of the best firehouses in the city. So the only reason he would try to jump in and take charge instead of standing back and getting a sense of how 51 worked was to incite a bit of a power play. Casey had been well within his rights to rebuke him for it, and knew perfectly well that if Grainger had tried that same move with just Engine and Squad there that Severide would’ve done the same thing.

Still, he could’ve been the bigger man and perhaps not have been quite so abrupt when Grainger came to him later to apologize, begrudging though it was. He had been out of character enough for both Stella and Sylvie to mention it, although Sylvie’s motivation had been decidedly more personal and had struck harder and closer to home.

And really, it was that part that still stuck in his craw; the unexpected accusation that he had been surly with Grainger not out of jealousy over Sylvie, but because he was somehow still caught up in his feelings for Dawson. Because everything came back to Gabby, apparently, even when she was two years gone. Well, two years and six months, if he counted the brief stayover in Chicago for her organization’s charity ball over the holidays.

Casey had honestly thought that things were starting to get back to some kind of normal after she had left the second time. He had gotten one last night with his second love (Hallie would always be his first), and he had walked away easily, leaving her sleeping the next morning. It had been a small thing, but it was enough to restore some of his mental and emotional equilibrium and confidence that he hadn’t even consciously realized that he had lost.

Gabby choosing to walk away and end their marriage had come closer to breaking him than anyone except maybe Severide truly knew. He had thrown himself into his job, staying late, arriving early, all so he didn’t have to go back to his apartment alone and try to fight off the encroaching doubts that had plagued him for months about his choices, actions, decisions. Had she walked away because she didn’t love him anymore? And was that his fault? He had wrangled with that question all the way up until that night in December.

As soon as their lips had touched in that ballroom, he had understood. Gabby still loved him; she just was no longer _in_ love with him. Kissing her, being with her that night had felt more like old friends, coming together one last time before they went their separate ways.

It had felt like a farewell.

And for a while, Casey had truly believed that was exactly what it was. He had started to look forward again, and squarely in his line of sight was a certain irresistible, bubbly blonde paramedic.

Sylvie was like liquid sunshine; she practically glowed with her love of life, drawing others to her like a moth to a flame. She had been a balm to his senses, soothing comfort and unwavering confidence in him, even when he faltered and doubted.

But then she had kissed him, and everything had changed. She had changed, he realized suddenly. Something about that night and their conversation after had spooked her into pushing him away. The question, his answer, her resulting continued assumption that he was still in love with Gabby, his being jealous somehow connecting back to that – it was all an excuse, a shield so that she wouldn’t have face the real reason why she was running. In fact, she was acting the same way towards Casey that he had acted towards Grainger, which meant…

Sylvie was jealous.

Casey rolled the thought over in his mind as he considered her subtle behavior changes over the past weeks.

Not only was Sylvie potentially jealous, but incredibly so, on a level mirroring his own turbulent emotions if he was right, which his intuition was screaming that he was. She had been fine, he thought – up until she had literally ran into him and Sydney while they were talking out on the app floor. The pretty redhead had stopped by to return his shirt, and to bring the firehouse donuts. It had just been horrible timing that Sylvie had burst out of the side door instead of the main one, nearly knocking his shirt out of Sydney’s hands.

Casey had known the moment that Sylvie had noticed the shirt and recognized it for what it was – and the significance of the other woman having it. The rest of that encounter was a blur, mainly because he had deliberately blocked out the memory of his inane attempt to introduce the two women to each other as a distraction from the hurt and betrayed look that Sylvie had shot him before she and Mackey had loaded up.

He was lucky that Sydney was more perceptive and sweet and understanding than he deserved, and had gracefully yielded the field -so to speak – later that night. Casey hadn’t looked at another woman since then, determined to get things back on track with Sylvie, only to have Grainger appear into his life and path the next shift.

Which brought him full circle back to Sylvie and how to approach her next. They needed to talk, at some point – a really, honest, blunt and open conversation about their future, as friends or otherwise. But in order for them to have that conversation, Casey apparently needed some kind of tangible, symbolic proof that he was well and truly over Dawson, for Sylvie’s peace of mind at least.

His phone dinged with an alert, startling him out of his thoughts. It was a text from Severide, but it got him thinking about other messages that he hadn’t quite had the heart to delete.

Fine. Sylvie wanted proof, and he had a few things that he needed to say to her anyway.

Suddenly knowing exactly what he had to do, Casey breezed through the rest of the reports before gathering them up and dropping them off on Kylie’s desk with a post it noting the date and time they were turned in. No reason to get her in trouble because he had slacked off. Connie had trained him better than that; he could just hear and see the Look she would be giving him if he hadn’t owned up to his tardiness.

His duty finally complete, Casey wasted no time in grabbing his bag and heading home to shower and change before heading right back out. The slow building anger and frustration that had been building inside him since that morning welled up again as he strode into Sylvie’s apartment building. Taking a breath, he rapped sharply on her door.

“Sylvie? Open up,” he called, when there was no answer. “We need to talk.”

The door reluctantly swung open, revealing the blonde. She frowned at him.

“You, Sylvie Brett, have developed this sudden habit of talking -or yelling- at me and then running away without giving me a chance to respond or defend myself,” he said coolly. “After this morning’s outburst, I figure that you owe me equal opportunity to speak, at the very least, and since you’ve taken to hiding out here when you’re avoiding me, I came to you.”

He could tell that she really wanted to say no, but she begrudgingly stood aside, holding the door wider so that he could enter. He took five steps in and whirled around on her, his eyes and voice filled with frustrated hurt and a tinge of anger.

“Why are you so intent on making sure that I resolve whatever feelings that I may or may not have for Gabby?” he demanded. “How exactly is it any of your business anymore? Please, enlighten me, Sylvie, because after the past few days it is blatantly obvious that you have gotten over whatever feelings you may have had for me. So why is is so important to you that I do this?”

“You think that I no longer have feelings for you?” She said, incredulity filling her entire body and tone as she stared at him. “Matt-“

“You moved on to Grainger fast enough-“

“So what? You can just turn around and hook up with the first pretty woman who bats her eyes at you, but I can’t?” She retorted, her eyes narrowing. “You have no room to talk about fast turn arounds, Casey.”

Bingo.

He stopped to stare at her for a long moment, eyes narrowed as she confirmed his hunch. “You were jealous,” he said slowly. “That’s what this is about. You believed that I had moved on, so you tried to do the same thing with Grainger.”

She tried to muster up a defense, but he rolled right over anything she might have said.

“Didn’t work though, did it?” he continued. “And now, in addition to still being a bit jealous, you’re feeling guilty and frustrated, and taking it out on me, because the Sylvie Brett that I have gotten to know and care deeply about can’t just go out and hook up with a guy to avoid her feelings for another one. Not without regretting it. You don’t use people like that.”

“You did,” she retorted bitterly.

No amount of smash therapy could erase the memory of him and the redhead standing so close together, him smiling that bright, full Matt Casey smile that Sylvie hadn’t seen in nearly a month. So when the handsome Lt. from 40 had made a teasing comment to her during Mouch and Rutledge’s mini feud, she had responded, just like she had allowed herself to flirt with him later that night at Molly’s. And, although she would never admit it to anyone, it had been Casey’s noticeable absence at the bar the night of The Sydney Encounter that had pushed Sylvie to actually make the trek over to firehouse 40 to ask Grainger out.

“I’m a man, and therefore an idiot,” Casey countered wryly, softening his tone. “And it didn’t work for me either.” He shook his head as her eyes widened in surprise. “Luckily for me, Sydney was understanding, especially when she is the one who told me how obvious it is how I feel about you. Which means,” he added pointedly. “That my response to Grainger had nothing to do with Dawson, and everything do with you.” Letting that sink in, he took a measured step towards her. “Which brings us back to my original question, Sylvie: Why is it so important to you that I resolve my issues with Gabby – and what are you going to do about it when I do and you don’t have her as a roadblock to throw up between us anymore?”

She sucked in a sharp breath, though her tone remained steady. “I guess we’ll get to that if it happens,” she countered, trying to bluff. How had he seen through her bluster to her true motivations so easily?

The measuring look that he sent her was heated and considering. “Then let’s not waste any more time.” Pulling out his phone, he showed her the screen. “Gabby left this voicemail the the morning after she left town for the second time. I kept it, because you were partially right. I do still love her. Part of me always will. But I’m not _in_ love with her, and haven’t been for a very long time. That night was about saying good bye, Sylvie. At least, it was for me.” He hit play, and Gabby’s warm, husky voice filled the space between them.

“So she did ask you.”

“And yet, here I am. Standing here with you.”

She drew in a slow breath, her heart racing. “Then why keep the voicemail?”

“Because it’s a safety line,” he said quietly. “Even the glimmer of possibilities is better than being completely alone with no one to look forward to.” His gaze never left hers as he deliberately moved his thumb over the screen, deleting the message and emptying the trashcan, before going into his contacts and doing the same to Gabby’s contact information. “There,” he said, pocketing his phone and moving until he was standing directly in front of Sylvie. “Now, if Gabby comes back to Chicago explicitly to ask me to go back with her, you only have yourself to blame if I do. Because that means that even after all of this, you still haven’t given me a reason to stay.”

While she was still absorbing the shock of that blunt revelation and challenge, he added another. “Grainger knew what he was getting into with you, but he doesn’t deserve to be a distraction or a roadblock from you deciding what you really want and being brave enough to go after it. And you were never walking in Gabby’s shadow, Sylvie. Not when she was here, or after she left. Personally, or professionally. As soon as you’re ready to step out into the sun once and for all in your own mind, you know where to find me.” He was out the door, closing it behind him before she could respond.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The return of Sylvie the (no longer pod) person, Casey steals a donut and flirts, and they have part two of their discussion.

Sylvie stood frozen in the middle of her apartment for a long moment after Matt left.

How had she been so right and so incredibly wrong at the same time? Because she had been right – there were still unresolved feelings between Casey and Dawson. She had just been the depth and kind of feelings on each side, and she had definitely forgotten to take into consideration the strong personalities and morals of the two people involved. That voicemail had proved that Gabby Dawson still wanted it all – her dream job and her devoted (ex) husband, on her terms and at her whim.

Dawson had a long history of trouble with yielding to higher authority, Sylvie knew from experience; whether it had been with Chief Hatcher or going off book as a firefighter under Casey’s command. Him coming to work in Puerto Rico meant a high possibility that he would be working for her, instead of the other way around. And that was something that the equally always in control Truck Captain would never yield to, even (or maybe especially) when it came to his ex-wife. No matter how much he may have loved her.

She definitely owed Casey some apologies and explanations, both of which were long overdue. She had been operating under false pretense and a skewed perspective as well, she was starting to realize, and that had not been fair to either of them.

Those apologies and explanations would have to wait though, because Casey had also been right about Greg Grainger.

The Engine Lt. had been sweet, and fun, and a sorely needed boost to her ego and self-confidence – and he had also been a distraction and an easy excuse to avoid her own fears and issues. He did deserve better, even though she had been honest up front about where her head space was at. Maybe they had been using each other to escape, though she hadn’t asked him if that was the case. At any rate, it was time to stop running.

With a heavy sigh, she picked up her phone. As much as she wanted to take the cowardly way out and tell him on the phone, she owed him the courtesy of telling him in person.

**

Two days later, Sylvie walked into the bunk room about twenty minutes early, somehow unsurprised to see Casey already in his quarters, bent over his desk. She took a purely feminine moment to appreciate and admire the sight of his broad back and shoulders, his muscular build emphasized by the white polo shirt that he wore. It was something that she hadn’t let herself indulge in for nearly two months, ever since she had kissed him.

“Well good morning, Sunshine. It’s been a while.”

Sylvie glanced over at Stella as the brunette strolled over to join her. “What are you talking about? I saw you last night.”

“No, last night was Sylvie Brett the Pod Person, who has been inhabiting your body for the past couple of months. She’s been moody and withdrawn, and has made some questionable decisions lately, up until last night.” She paused. “Grainger left rather abruptly the other night.”

Sylvie winced. “I haven’t been that bad, have I?” She said worriedly, ignoring the not so subtle inquiry about Greg and pushing away the remnants of guilt that she still felt about ending things so abruptly. _God, I’ve turned into such a hussy!_ She thought resignedly. Stringing him along would’ve just hurt everyone involved in the long run, so it was better to make a clean break now, no matter what ended up happening between her and Casey.

“Honey, let’s just say that now I understand why everyone was tip toeing around me and Kelly when we were broken up for a while after Benny died,” Stella answered ruefully. “You and Casey go internal instead of working your frustrations out on other people, which I know that I, along with Gallo and Mouch, are supremely grateful for since it means no excess drilling this time around, but it is still wonderful to have my best friend back.” She hip bumped the blonde companionably, throwing a long arm around her shoulders. “Even if it means going back to choking on the UST between you and Casey again.”

“Stella!”

“What? There was a period there where you two were exchanging some definite longing looks at nearly every call that we went out on. They were nearly hotter than the actual fires.” She shrugged, tugging Sylvie along as they resumed their trek. “I thought for sure that you two were going to finally resolve some things after he jumped out of the rig to get down to you after you went off the overpass, especially after your little confession, but then everything went to hell and you became Brett the Pod Person.”

“Stella Kidd, you’re the one who pep talk’d me into asking Greg out in the first place!”

Stella winced. “Yeah well, I may have been projecting a bit. And I thought you were going to have drinks with the guy once or twice, not wait until Casey was there and watching while you left with him!” She exclaimed, throwing her hands up.

“Shhh!” Sylvie scolded, glancing nervously over at Casey’s door. Luckily, it looked like it was closed. Rolling her eyes, she urged her friend to start moving anyway. “I didn’t plan for it to happen that way; it just did. Not that it helped,” she added under her breath.

Greg had been sweet and thoughtful and accommodating, but it hadn’t quite been enough to distract her mind enough to convince her body to completely get with the program. Her lack of satisfaction that night had been a big part of why he had been mostly resigned to her ending things; the lack of chemistry hadn’t been necessarily one sided.

Changing the subject, she frowned when Stella tugged her to the door. “Where are we going?”

“Common room to get to the donuts before Mouch does, and then to the briefing room. Mackey and I need your opinion.”

Glancing one more time over her shoulder at Casey’s quarters, she reluctantly let her friend propel her away.

In his quarters, Casey watched out of the corner of his eye as the two women left, before letting a broad smile bloom.

He had discovered a while ago that if he left his door open just a crack, he could hear most of the conversations that went on in the bunk room. He didn’t use the trick very often, preferring to remain oblivious to the shenanigans that were often plotted and schemed in the bunkroom, but it still came in useful.

He had definitely heard enough to confirm that Sylvie had broken things off with Grainger, and that Kidd was much more perceptive than he had realized, though she was wrong in her assumption that he usually exercised his frustrations with the world through drilling his team. That may have been a part of it in the past, but now he did it more to keep them out of trouble rather than use them as an outlet.

An idle comment from Severide after Casey had sent Gallo home mid shift had been enough warning for the Truck Captain that he needed to rein in his emotions and focus on the job. Unlike with the more recent confrontation with Grainger, Gallo had been genuinely impulsive and acting on instincts that Casey wanted to encourage, but the kid still needed the reminded that firefighters who went even a bit rouge often ended up dead. Still, sending him home was overly harsh when balanced with the fact that he had made an incredible rescue, which was why Severide had made the comment that he did. Casey had handled things better after that, despite the deliberate distance and new coolness that Sylvie had directed at him at the time.

His alarm on his phone went off, signaling that it was time for morning roll call and briefing. Stifling a yawn, he got up and stretched, before ambling out.

**

“Okay, so these are a thousand times better than the Jessica Rabbit cartoons that Cruz came up with,” Stella informed her companions, wrinkling her nose as Brett’s brows shot up. “Yes, they really were that bad. He had an off the shoulder jacket, suspender mini dress, and –“

“-a girl dressed in a t-shirt, shorts, and heels,” Mackey finished dryly. “It was ridiculous! I mean, I love Joe to death, but sometimes the man is seriously oblivious.”

Brett laughed, rolling up the sketches to store them in the tube as the others put the chairs back. “The idea is fantastic though. I bet you could talk to the directors at The Art Institute, see if some of their fashion students want to take on a project like this. Functional and fitted fire gear for women. They might have some ideas that we haven’t thought of.”

“Maybe,” Kidd mused thoughtfully, before her eyes lit up. “Or we could ask Lily! She did those gorgeous proofs for Mollys North, and she designed the new logo and has done some promo posters for us.”

“I’m sure Cruz would be on board with that plan,” Brett agreed. “Speaking of Lily and her bakery, I’m going back for another donut before roll call. You guys want anything?”

They shook their heads, so she slipped out to the common room alone. Ritter was over at the pastry box, two napkins in front of him as he reached inside.

“Back away from the glazed twist, and no one gets hurt,” she said, playfully lowering her voice into her best wild west gunslinger imitation.

He grinned, obligingly putting his hands up in clear surrender before taking one of the other donuts instead. “Far be it for me to stand between a woman and sugar,” he teased. “My mama didn’t raise no fool.”

She returned the grin, accepting the napkin he offered with a flourish. “Smart man, with a smarter mama,” she teased back.

Amused, they returned to the briefing room with their food. Ritter went to his customary spot next to Gallo. After a moment’s hesitation, Sylvie slipped into the spot against the wall next to Casey, feeling his surprised gaze on her as she settled in, not quite brushing his arm with her own. She avoided his gaze, determinedly looking toward the front of the room as they waited for Chief Boden.

She saw his lips quirk out of the corner of her eye, before he reached over an tore off a sizeable piece of her donut.

“Casey!” She scolded, struggling to keep a straight face as he popped his stolen prize into his mouth, chewing and swallowing quickly, his eyes sparkling with laughter and mischief.

“What?” he said innocently. “You know Chief hates when we eat during morning briefing. I was just helping you get rid of the evidence before he got here. Being a good friend.”

“Hmph,” she grumbled. “Try that again, _friend_ , and you may lose a finger.” She was a bit amazed at how easily they had fallen back into the familiar patterns of banter and light hearted teasing, but she wasn’t surprised. Casey wasn’t one to hold grudges or let things linger unnecessarily. He knew as well as she did that things weren’t close to being completely resolved between them. Still, his playful gesture was really a peace offering of sorts, an invitation to return to some semblance of the friendship and easy working relationship that they still had underneath all the personal drama.

“She means it too, Casey,” Kidd interjected from his other side, winking at her. “She fights dirty; mostly because I taught her well.”

He rolled his eyes as she leaned around him to offer Brett a fist bump, which she returned with a grin. “Duly noted.”

Brett smiled to herself as she finally ate the rest of her donut, focusing on licking the sticky sweetness off of her fingers and deliberately pretending not to feel Casey’s suddenly intent gaze, watching every little flick and swipe and lick of her tongue on her fingers.

Kidd cleared her throat exaggeratedly, startling him into looking away. She smirked at him knowingly when he glared, jerking her head towards the front of the room. “Morning, Chief,” she called cheerfully, joining the others in greeting their boss.

Casey straightened, a bit self-consciously, aware of the female shoulders on both sides of him silently shaking with amusement. Evil minxes, the both of them. Especially the blonde on his right. He was feeling a bit like he was back in high school, flirting with his latest crush before the bell rang. Their little interaction just now hadn’t felt calculated though, at least not on his part.

He glanced at Brett again out of the corner of his eye, but she was listening attentively and either didn’t see or was pretending to ignore his gaze. Then his brain registered what the Chief was saying, and his attention immediately shifted.

“…Due to a communications mishap, the following people will report to Firehouse 30 for mandatory TRA training: Ritter, Gallo, Mackey, Mouch, Anders, Thompson…”

Herrmann let out a cry of protest. “Chief, that’s my entire team!”

“Lt. Herrmann, you will cover Gallo on Truck 81 until he returns. I have taken Engine out of service until this afternoon, since I have been assured that all training will be complete by then,” Boden continued pointedly. “Still, you all need to report within the next 30 minutes, so go now. The sooner you do so, the sooner you can return to work.”

Chairs scraped as the three rookies and other men took the dismissal and order for what it was and quickly disappeared.

“Brett, Violet Lin is coming over from 20 to fill in for Mackey; she should be here within the hour,” he finished when they were gone. “Truck and Squad, I was also informed that they are doing something different and calling out the remaining units in teams so that there is an overlap of manpower, so be prepared for that.”

Casey, Severide, and Herrmann exchanged a resigned look. The Chief returned the look, spreading his hands wordlessly. The remaining firefighters, veterans all, knew what that meant: figure it out. They were long past needing him to hold their hand at most incidents now, which was why he had broadened his focus and scope ot the other houses under his charge.

“Dismissed.”

Message received, they filed out. Mouch, Cruz, Tony, and Capp heading for the common room, while Herrmann followed Boden, no doubt to vent the rest of his grievences in private. Severide and Kidd wandered out after the rest of his squad, probably to partake of the coffee before Capp got to it with his new flavor of the moment, which left Casey and Brett alone.

“Can we talk?”

Casey turned in surprise at the hesitant question. “Sure,” he agreed, gesturing for her to proceed him out. Part of him wanted to wait, since this was a conversation that was definitely not work related, but a bigger part wanted to get it out of the way so that they could move forward.

Brett walked into his quarters without hesitation, waiting until he closed the door behind him before meeting his gaze. “I feel like I owe you a million apologies.”

Casey leaned against his desk, crossing his arms. “I’m not interested in apologies, Sylvie,” he said bluntly. “Like I told you the other night, I’m more interested in why.”

She grimaced. “That’s part of a longer conversation later, with alcohol,” she said, shaking her head. “I also just wanted to check in with you, and see where we stand with each other, I guess.”

He sighed heavily. “I actually really don’t know anymore,” he said finally. “A lot of this could have been avoided if you had just trusted me enough to realize that I never would have kissed you back or admitted to having feelings for you if I doubted for even a moment that my feelings for Gabby were going to be an issue or get in the way of us.”

Her heart broke a bit at the betrayal and hurt swirling in his voice and his eyes. “Dawson used to do the same thing, you know – insist that I was feeling a certain way, and that she couldn’t force me into feeling the same as she did, but she wasn’t going to wait for me to change.” He added bitterly, shoving away the memories of multiple instances of that exact conversation, the last time of which had also taken place in his quarters as well.

He had just been elected Alderman- ironically, something that she had cajoled and pushed for him to do in the first place- when she had met Louie for the first time. She had moved so fast after that – one week visiting him at the group home, the next informing Casey that she wanted to foster the boy, with an eventual goal of adoption- that he hadn’t had time to process or realign enough to get on board. At least, not enough to muster up enough enthusiasm for Dawson’s liking, since her speech about not forcing him into something that he wasn’t ready for or didn’t want had immediately followed his lack luster reaction to her plan.

And now here he was again, with another woman incorrectly assuming and interpreting his feelings from one response and reaction, and leaving him scrambling to catch up.

“I know.” Sylvie said, blowing out a breath. “I realized that last night. I also came to the realization that a lot of my…not really obsession, but focus, I guess- around Gabby and your relationship with her is because of the fact that I only really know you through her eyes, Matt.” She offered him a tiny, rueful smile. “You were the number one topic in the ambo for six years, but it was all filtered through her perspective and point of view, which I can see and admit now, was obviously skewed.

In my defense though, she’s a very strong personality and influence. Maybe I channeled her a bit too much?”

Casey blinked, his eyes wide and his brain whirling as that revelation sunk in. “Wow.”

“Yeah.” She agreed with a sigh. “We’ve gotten closer, sure, but I still don’t know much about you as a person, outside of 51, Matt. Your history. Your experiences.” She shrugged. “Your favorite color.”

They were silent for a few moments.

“I guess there’s only one solution to this then.” Casey said suddenly.

Sylvie eyed him, warily intrigued by the mischievous sparkle in his eyes. “And that would be?”

“You need to get to know me on your own,” he pointed out, now all logic. “And the easiest way to do that is by spending time together off shift.”

Her eyes widened. “Matt Casey, are you asking me out?”

“I am,” he agreed easily, somehow catching her hand and tugging her forward until she was standing directly in front of him. “Are you accepting?”

She let herself be maneuvered with a soft huff of amusement, her hands automatically going to his chest to balance herself and maintain talking distance between them. “I dunno,” she teased. “I feel like there’s a catch.”

“Oh there is,” he agreed solemnly, though his lips twitched. “I am a very complex person, after all, and we have six years of history to overcome. That is going to take a while.”

“Weeks,” she confirmed with a nod, trying to remain serious. “Months, even.”

Casey let his hands drop to her hips briefly, before running them idly up her sides and back down again. “Gonna require your sole attention and some serious dedication,” he said casually, though the look in his eyes as he met her gaze was anything but.

She took a breath, hearing what he didn’t say. _Can you trust in me?_ And just as importantly, _can I trust you?_

Because that was what it came down to. He was putting himself out there to be hurt, just as much as she was. Maybe more, because had been in love before and knew what it felt like to have it – and then lose it.

“I’m up for the challenge if you are.”

A slow, delighted smile lit up his face. “Yeah?”

She nodded, licking her lips. “Yeah,” she said softly, her eyes shining with warmth and happiness. “You jump, I jump, right?”

He paused. “Are you really quoting ‘Titanic’ at me right now?”

Her shoulders shook with laughter as he eased her closer, her arms relaxing enough to allow him to close the distance between them. “It was more romantic in my head.”

She was adorable, and he was smitten all over again, just like that. Bending his head, he leaned in to kiss her, and taste the giggles that were bubbling out of her like champagne, when the bells went off. Casey dropped his forehead to her shoulder with a thump, hearing her soft laughter.

“This isn’t over, Sylvie Brett,” he warned as she slipped out of his grasp.

Feeling lighter and happier than she had felt in months, she winked at him over her shoulder. “Count on it, Matt Casey.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's still more to come, I promise! At least two, maybe three, more chapters!


End file.
